


Dirty Paws

by sumibear



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:37:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumibear/pseuds/sumibear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hybrid AU where Marco is part cat and Jean is part dog. </p>
<p>One rainy night, when Marco thinks that everything is going to end, he is discovered by Jean, who brings him home. </p>
<p>WARNING: This fanfic may contain triggering material in later chapters such as drug usage and violence, please read at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wet fur

Cities are a blessing. They hold so much potential for business, commerce, life. During the day, you see streets bustling with people and shops all open to the public. It’s such a lively and fast-pace setting, yet it’s somehow comforting. You feel safe in the large number of people walking along side you down the sidewalk. Sure, you’ll pass by a couple suspicious packs of dogs hanging out in alleyways, their faces shielded by their hoods. But during the day, they pose no threat. They’re only viewed as hooligans who’ll probably try to take some elderly woman’s purse. But, take away the sunlight and the crowds. Take away your protective numbers, and keep only yourself, and now those dogs are something different. You pray that they don’t find you walking home alone, and you pity the stray kittens that wander the streets. So many cases of cats being assaulted and killed for a simple game between dogs had been reported, but authorities had never bothered to try and stop them. After all, cats were merely property, and unclaimed property that was just laying behind a dumpster could receive any fate that didn’t punish its new owner. Owning a cat was a sort of status symbol, the prettier your cat, the purer the pedigree, the more money you had. However, some pedigrees had their own independence, but they were still treated as lesser by society. Some consider these cats lucky, other think they’re damn crazy. They have to work, feed and clothe themselves, provide their own food and shelter, and raising a family was impossible. Dogs did all of these things for the cat they owned, but the kitten had no say in what they could and couldn’t do. They were provided with everything they needed for the price of their freedom. Many didn’t mind as long as they had a practical owner, but sometimes you’d get a rotten one.  
At this point, Marco would kill for a rotten owner over the one he had now, which was none. His old owner, a respectable dog who never told the kitten his name, had passed away a week ago. He didn’t have any family or close friends that he could hand Marco over to, so the boy was fending for himself now. He was a stray, unclaimed property, sitting behind a dumpster as rain poured down. It was nighttime, the time where all those hooligans came out to play their twisted little game. It was a miracle that Marco had made it this long, but he wished he’d been found on the first night. He was tired and hungry, soaked to the bone and curled up, hiding behind a giant metal box of trash.  
He was considering just running out into the street so that he’d be found, but it sounded like he wouldn’t have to do that. He heard footsteps accompanied by voices. Despite the kitten’s desire to perish, he held his breath. He tried his hardest to stay quiet. It was his stupid instincts kicking in, not allowing him to be found. But, his instincts didn’t help his camouflage. A dog walked past the dumpster, instantly spotting the shivering ball of matted fur. The dog’s lips curled into a devilish grin as he squat down, eyeing the kitten.  
“Hey there. You lost, little guy?” The dog asked, leaning in a little. That was how they did it. They led the poor, unsuspecting creature on. They made it feel safe so that the second it opened up, they pounced and ripped their prey to shreds.  
Marco shifted a little in his ball, looking to the dog knelt before him. The kitten’s chocolate eyes were met with a fiery amber stare. He swallowed, knowing that these moments were going to be his last.  
“Yeah.” Marco responded simply, his voice quiet. He made sure the dog knew of his fear so that his kill could be more satisfactory. The dog’s gaze traveled across the cat’s curled up figure. He leaned forward, forcing Marco to uncurl as his back was now pressed against the dumpster. Now that the dog was closer, the boy could get a much better look at his future killer. He had a long face, strong jawline, a blonde undercut that looked kinda stupid all wet and plastered to his face.  
“Jean, are ‘ya gonna kill the thing or not?” An impatient voiced asked.  
“Yeah, we’re getting soaked!” Another voice whined. The blonde’s gaze narrowed as he inspected Marco closely.  
“No. I think I’m going to keep him.” The dog responded finally, his tail wagging slowly. The dog, who Marco now knew was named Jean, pressed his nose to the crook of the kitten’s neck, taking a deep breath.  
“He smells nice.”

 

Marco was loaded into a sleek, black car with tinted windows. He was shaking, cold but also scared of what awaited him. Jean had climbed into the car and sat down next to him, taking off his jacket and setting it onto the boy’s shoulders. This was odd. Marco had heard of kittens like himself getting torn limb from limb in alleyways, not put into nice cars and given a jacket. The dog must have sensed his confusion and fear, for he spoke in a soft voice.  
“Don’t worry. I’m taking you home.” He informed the cat as if his words were reassuring.  
The car soon came to a stop and the door opened without either one of them touching it, a well-dressed dog holding it open. Jean urged the cat out of the vehicle and the two of them ran into the building nearest. It was an apartment complex. The secretary at the front desk greeted the dog in a peppy tone, but her gaze turned sour as she looked to Marco. The blonde led the boy into an elevator, four men standing at each corner, all as well-dressed as the one from outside. They all wore black suits and sunglasses, cords in their ears. Jean’s tail was wagging much more quickly now, his face once more buried in the cat’s neck.  
The door opened with a ding, reveling a pristinely crafted pair of doors down a short hallway. Jean walked down this hallway, fumbling around in his pocket for a moment before locating his keys. The dog unlocked the doors, walking in. There were two more dogs in suits inside, but jean was not at all deterred by them, obviously accustomed to their presence.  
“Alright, let’s get you washed up!” The boy stated, clapping his hands together. He took Marco by the wrist, leading him through what the cat only assumed was a penthouse. They passed through the master bedroom to the master bathroom, which was big enough to house three fully-grown dogs comfortably. The dog let go of his new possession, turning on the water to fill up his ivory white bath. Marco stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Jean looked back to him.  
“You’re not going to take a bath in your clothes, are you?” He questioned. Marco shook his head. “Then take your clothes off, stupid.”  
Marco hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told, peeling off the shirt that weight three pounds due to the rain. He unbuttoned his pants, trying his best to free his leg from the soaked denim without falling flat on his ass. Once he was free of clothes, the bath was ready. He walked to the tub, climbing in. His cheeks turned pink as he felt the dog’s eyes scan over his bare body, but he tried his best to ignore it.  
“You know how to wash yourself, right?” The dog asked, eyes now locked onto the cat’s. The black haired kitten nodded.  
“My guys will bring you a change of clothes.” Jean informed him, standing.  
“When you’re done washing up and dressed, they’ll bring you to me.” He finished before turning and exiting the bathroom.

 

A black sweater and a pair of booty shorts. That’s what Jean’s “Guys” had brought Marco to change into. But it was better than the clothing he had stripped off earlier, which now had a large puddle pooling around it. The kitten stepped out of the bathroom hesitantly. A dog in a black suit spotted him and approached him.  
“Are you ready to be taken to MR. Kirschtein?” He asked in a monotonous voice. Marco nodded, the man nodding in return and motioning for him to follow. The cat was lead through the penthouse once more, now seeing the kitchen which was nothing less than extraordinary. He was brought to another finely crafted door, the well-dressed dog opening it for the kitten.  
“Mr. Kirschtein, I’m sorry to interrupt, but here’s the cat.” The guard said.  
Jean was sat at his desk, a man sitting across from him. Jean’s eyes lit up as he saw Marco, a smile spreading across his face.  
“It’s not a problem. Kitty, why don’t you come sit at my feet?” He suggested, but it clearly wasn’t a choice. Marco quickly made his way to the dog’s side, sitting on the floor next to his chair. Jean’s hand reached out to rest atop Marco’s head, scratching softly.  
“I’m sorry about that, Mr. Dawk. Please, continue on your offer.” He said calmly, eyes going back to the older man sat before him.  
“I’ve stated my offer, Kirschtein.” He growled. Jean sighed, shaking his head.  
“I’m afraid this deal simply won’t work. My plants are top of the line, the best this city has got. A simple stock in your company isn’t going to pay off the price of a month’s worth of weed.”  
Marco’s eyes widened. Suddenly, everything made sense. The sleek car, the black suited dogs with wires in their ears, the penthouse. Jean was a drug dealer. But not just any dealer, the most wanted dealer in this whole city. His name was whispered among the large crowds you traveled with during the day, muttered in the alleyways by the hooded dogs looking for strays, and shouted out of shear frustration by the feds who kept hitting dead ends while trying to hunt him down. He was sitting atop the throne of the drug empire that built this city up and put it on the map. If he suddenly disappeared or stopped selling, the city would collapse, and everyone was well aware of it.  
All of this hit Marco like a train, his stomach dropping. He tried to tune out the rest of the meeting, not wanting to hear any of it. He was no longer scared of being ripped limb from limb by this dog. Oh no, now that he knew the power the dog possessed, he was absolutely petrified. Not of death, but of the cops catching up and finding him. What if a meeting went bad and there was a shootout? What if he overdosed? Wait, can you overdose on weed? Whatever, that didn’t matter. Marco’s new found concern for the dog was overwhelming, the fear of all these different yet completely possible scenarios happening taking over. Some of the most gruesome stuck with him, not leaving his head. What if these actually happened? What if Jean was killed, or worse? There was no way of telling at this point if any of those things were actually going to come true, for only time could tell.


	2. Play Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's a little blood and violence in this chapter and mention of sexual harassment so please read at your own risk!!!

It had been a week since Marco was rescued from his dirty alleyway and brought to a drug dealer's penthouse. It wasn't all that bad. The view of the city was incredible and all the furniture was comfortable to lounge on. The kitten usually found himself spread across the love seat behind Jean's desk in the office. The dog would occasionally pull himself away from his computer to spin around in his chair so he could scratch behind Marco's ear.   
But besides that, all of their other interactions were overwhelmingly awkward. Marco always knew to never speak out of turn when talking to a dog, but Jean would always start casual conversation or make side comments that the cat didn't know if he was supposed to respond to or not. Not to mention the fact that Jean always touched Marco in all the wrong ways. No matter how nice of an owner you had, they would always place their hands on your butt, your groin, your breasts, anywhere personal. But Jean, with his delicate fingers, always placed his hands on the kitten's back or shoulder or arm. It was odd behavior for an owner. Maybe he was just letting Marco warm up to his touch before he took it a step up.   
Another thing Marco found extremely awkward was that the dog loved it when he sat in his lap. It didn't matter if he was straddling the blonde or if he was curled up in a ball with his head resting on Jean's shoulder, the dog adored the contact. This wasn't that bad, but sometimes Marco would sit in the dog's lap for hours on end and not say a word. The only noise that would fill the room would be the voices of actors on the TV and the rhythmic thudding of Jean's tail against the couch.   
But, when Marco did get time to himself, he quickly discovered that there was nothing to do. Nothing to occupy himself with. It was.. boring. Who would've thought? Someone living in a penthouse on the top level wasn't content. Jean was always working or watching TV, so he didn't get bored that much. But none of the shows interested Marco, and sitting around while the dog worked didn't provide much entertainment.   
However, the cat knew he couldn’t complain. Not only was he living in a penthouse, but Jean could easily get annoyed by his bitching and throw him out or worse. So, the boy laid around day after day, bored out of his mind. He figured that his brain would eventually turn to mush and he’d find the littlest things exciting and entertaining, but he’d have to wait for his slow spiral into madness.

 

The day started like any other. Jean came into Marco’s bedroom, still in a sleepy trance. He’d crawl into bed next to the kitten, not saying a word. Marco was always the little spoon, even though he was slightly taller. Eventually, the two would get out of bed and make their way to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting. They’d eat in silence, the loudest thing being their forks dinging against the glass plates occasionally. Jean would finish and go shower before retreating to his office to begin work. Marco would follow and lay on the love seat behind him. Jean would pet him every now and then. The same thing as every other day.   
But, today was different. Jean was in his office, Marco relaxing behind him, when the dog’s phone vibrated. That never happened. The kitten watched as a grin spread across the boy’s pale lips. He glanced back at Marco before going back to his work. What the hell was that? Was something going to happen to him? Marco didn’t have much time to think about it before the office door swung open. Jean stood, quickly making his way around the desk to greet a buff, blonde dog. It was obvious this wasn’t a client, the dog was dressed casually and wasn’t acting like a serious business man.   
“You’ve got my little kitty a playmate?” The unidentified dog asked, tail wagging. Jean nodded, looking to Marco and motioning him to come meet their guest. He did so, rising from the love seat and walking to Jean’s side.   
“Reiner, this is Marco. I feel like he and Bert will get along just fine.” Jean said matter of factly. The dog, now known as Reiner, grinned as he looked over the kitten presented before him.   
“Well, let’s find out!” Reiner responded before leaning out the threshold, whistling. A moment later, a tall cat was standing next to him. His hair was black, like Marco’s, but his eyes were a deep green.   
“Marco, this is my little kitty, Bert.” Reiner introduced. Bert simply dipped his head, a bit of a nervous smile adorned. He found it a bit ironic that, even though Bert was taller, he had earned that title.   
“You two are gonna be playmates, so no fighting.” Jean mused, rubbing his own kitten’s back. There was that odd touching again.   
“You two go have fun, Jean and I have some work to do.” Reiner informed the two before shooing them out of the office, shutting the door behind them.   
The duo stood there for a moment. Neither one of them had ever really been apart from their owner and left with someone else before. Plus, they had never met before, so things were a bit awkward. They had no idea what to do, they didn’t know how to act towards one another since it was established that they were “playmates”. What do you do with a playmate when there’s nothing to play? Even though Marco had been praying for something interesting to come along, he didn’t expect it to be another cat.   
“Do you want to go watch TV?” Marco suggested. Bert simply nodded and followed behind Marco to the living room.   
They sat far apart, watching the pictures on the screen silently without a single interaction. Although Bert was a big cat, he sat in a very small area. He had his legs pulled up against his chest, arms wrapped around them, and his head resting atop his knees. Marco couldn’t tell if it was body language for “I’m extremely uncomfortable because I’m sitting on a stranger’s couch and I feel awkward because of it” or if that’s just how he sat.   
They stayed like that the entire time that Reiner and Jean were working. Bertl didn’t make a peep. He didn’t shift in his spot, didn’t laugh at a stupid joke on the sitcom they were watching, didn’t ask for food or water, and didn’t get up to go to the bathroom. It was almost as if he just put his body on pause. The office door opened and the two dogs walked out. Bert suddenly perked up, looking to Reiner.   
“Time to go, Bert.” He stated, the kitten instantly bolting to his side. The two left after that, Jean seeing them out. The dog returned to the living room where Marco still sat. He plunked down right next to the kitten, arm over the back of the couch.   
“Whatcha watching?” He asked, looking to the television. Marco shrugged, leaning his head onto the dog’s shoulder.   
“Some stupid sitcom.” He responded simply, obviously not interested in it just by the tone of voice he was using.   
Jean hummed in response, his arm leaving the back of the couch to bring his fingers to the kitten’s ear so he could rub it gently.   
“How was your playdate with Bert?” The dog asked in a much softer tone, now looking to the cat. Marco drew in a deep breath before letting it out in a long sigh, looking at Jean.  
“It was really awkward.” He responded  
“How come?”  
“We didn’t do anything. We just sat on the couch and watched TV the entire time.” Jean’s fingers stopped, his arm retreating to the back of the couch.   
“You mean you guys didn’t play fight or anything?” He asked, an eyebrow quirked.   
“But you said no fighting.”  
Jean shook his head. “No, play fighting is different!”  
“What is it?”  
“Y’know, play fighting! It’s when you guys act like you’re fighting, but you’re not actually hurting each other.” Marco looked at the dog with a puzzled look.   
“You’ve never play fought before?” The kitten shook his head. Jean looked shocked, almost offended. The dog grew up an only child, but his friends and he had always play fought together. He wasn’t aware that Marco was completely deprived of childhood friends, as his owner never let him go outside.   
“I’ve never done that before. Even if you told me to play fight with him, I wouldn’t know what to do.” Marco explained, looking back the TV. An evil grin spread across Jean’s face.  
“Well I guess the only way to know is to learn.” He stated before pinning Marco to the couch. The kitten looked up at the dog with wide, surprised eyes. A cocky smirk had replaced Jean’s grin, and he stared right back at the boy pinned underneath him.   
“What’re you going to do?” He asked, tail wagging.   
Marco’s heart was pounding. He had no idea what he was going to do, no instincts were kicking in, he didn’t have any sudden urges or ideas. He swallowed, unable to look away from Jean.   
“You’ve got to fight back somehow. If you let Bert pin you for the whole time it’s going to be just ask awkward as sitting on the couch and watching TV.” Jean leaned down. He nipped at the kitten’s ear once before whispering. “Do something.”   
Marco’s hands pressed against the dog’s chest, pushing him off the couch with a thud. He was afraid he hurt Jean as he didn’t get up right away. The cat sat up, peaking over the side of the couch to make sure he didn’t injure his owner. Jean shot up, trying to pin Marco against the back of the couch. However, he used a little too much force, and all the weight suddenly being focused on the back of the couch caused it to topple over backwards. Marco used this distraction to roll away from the dog as soon as they hit the floor. He looked to Jean, who was still trying to recover. He pounced on top of the dog, a little triumphant expression spread across his freckled face.   
Jean looked up at the cat with an impressed smile.   
“That’s more like it!” He jeered before reaching down the kitten’s back to grab the end of his shirt. He pulled the cloth up, over Marco’s head. Marco sat back, trying to get out of his own shirt as Jean wriggled out from under him. The kitten freed himself from the trap, discarding his shirt to the side as he tried to locate Jean. He couldn’t find the dog, he seemed to have disappeared. A moment later, though, he felt a force from behind push him down. The dog had him pinned against the carpet face first. Marco tried to use his arms as leverage to get up, but Jean sat on his back, which was far too much weight for the kitten’s arms to support. He could feel the draft of Jean’s tail wagging.   
“What now, kitty?” The dog teased, hand reaching up to play with the cat’s hair. Marco bucked his hips an attempt to throw Jean off, but it was no use. He growled, flicking his tail angrily.   
“Looks like I’ve won.” The dog announced, staying where he was. He grinned, leaning forward to whisper in Marco’s ear once more. “Now what’s my prize?” He cooed.   
Marco used this to his advantage, the weight now differently distributed, allowing the cat to buck his hips up, now able to get his feet under him and throw Jean off. The dog went flying, flopping onto his back with a groan. Marco shot over the dog, quickly grabbing each wrist and bringing them above Jean’s head. His chest was heaving, his heart pounding. He stared down at Jean, a small smile adorned.   
Jean looked up at the cat in disbelief, still trying to process what happened.   
“You sure you’ve never play fight before?” He asked suspiciously. Marco laughed, nodding. Jean simply shook his head, letting out a breathy chuckle.   
“You are something else.”

The next day, Reiner and Bert came over again. The two dogs went to the office, leaving the cats in the living room. Bert was on the couch, curled up in his little ball. Marco glanced over at him a couple times, trying to figure out the best attack plan. He was in a pretty defensive position, so it’d be hard to pin him. He’d have to get him to open up a little.   
“Bert, could you get that book for me?” Marco asked, gesturing to a book on a shelf. The cat nodded, unfolding from his cocoon. The smaller kitten lunged at him, pinning him to the couch. It went smoother than expected, he wasn’t struggling as Marco pinned him.  
But that quickly changed as Marco felt something sharp dig into the side of his neck. He cried out, flying away from his playmate. The cat brought his hand to the wound, which now had a small drop of blood dripping from it. He looked back to Bert, who hadn’t moved from where the smaller cat had pinned him. He looked terrified, a small patch of blood on his lip. His eyes were wide and fixed on Marco, his ears flat.   
Reiner and Jean busted out of the office and rushed to their kittens’ sides. They had heard Marco’s cry and became instantly worried. Jean saw the blood on Marco’s neck right away, it had bled past his hand which was cupping the bite. He turned to Reiner, who had Bert sitting up right. Bert was having a panic attack, and the dog was trying to calm him down.   
“Your cat bit Marco!” Jean barked, his voice dripping with anger.  
“Well, by the sounds of it, your cat assaulted mine!” Reiner countered, equally as enraged as Jean.   
“Marco would never do that!” Jean said defensively. “He’d never hurt a damn fly!”  
“He’s an alley cat, Jean! What the hell do you expect?” Reiner spat. “This is what happens when you get your cat from behind a dumpster and not from a seller!”  
It was obvious that Reiner’s words were meant to hurt, and they fucking stung.   
“I wasn’t raised in an alleyway! I grew up in a nice home with a nice owner! I was only on the street for a week after my owner died!” Marco cried out, but this only fueled Reiner’s anger even more.  
“I wasn’t talking to you, alley cat.” He barked, ears now flat against his head. “You assaulted Bert! You were going to kill him!”   
Marco shook his head frantically. “No, I was just playing!” He wailed, the only thing separating Reiner from Marco was Jean, who stood defensively in front of his kitten.   
“Bullshit!” Reiner shouted before trying to lunge at the cat. Jean caught him, thankfully, holding him back.   
“Reiner, calm down!” Jean barked, using all of his strength to restrain the dog. But his words seemed to go right through the blonde’s head as he broke free from Jean’s grip, throwing him to the ground and now pinning Marco to the couch. He grabbed the cat by the throat, spitting in his face.   
“You should’ve thought before you tried to kill my little kitten.” He growled. Marco was trying his best to explain. To say that he was play fighting and that Jean told him to do it to break the ice, but Reiner’s grip was tight around his neck and he couldn’t breathe. His face began to turn purple as he tried to choke out his explanation, his feet kicking under the dog as he struggled for breath. The corners of his vision began going dark and the cat thought this was actually going to be the end. He was going to get killed because he tried play fighting with his play mate.   
“Reiner!” A different voice spoke, instantly grabbing the dog’s attention. He turned to look at Bert, who seemed to be a mix of stern and nervous.   
“Let go of him.” He demanded in a soft tone. Reiner did so, leaving Marco gasping for breath. Jean was back up on his feet, now hunching over his kitten protectively as he glared back at the other dog.   
“I think we should let Marco explain himself before doing something rash.” The taller cat suggested in a soothing tone. This was the first time Marco heard Bert talk, but he wasn’t at all surprised by how soft his voice was. Jean decided to explain for Marco.   
“Last night I told Marco to play fight with Bert so that things wouldn’t be awkward. But I guess it came off more as an attack than a playful gesture.” The two-toned blonde stated. He understood why Bert had bitten Marco now, but he wasn’t completely over it.   
“I’m sorry.” Marco apologized shamefully, ears flat against his head. His breath was still slightly heavy, and a red mark where Reiner’s hand was had formed on the kitten’s neck.   
“I’m sorry for biting you.” Bert responded, then looking to Reiner expectantly. It took the dog a moment before he realized what Bert wanted.   
“I’m sorry too.” He whined, tail drooping. Thankfully, Marco wasn’t one to hold grudges. 

 

After his bite was tended to and Bert and Reiner left, Marco found himself sat on the couch, wrapped in Jean’s arms. The dog didn’t say a word. He saw the two off and then instantly came back to the living room, sitting down and embracing the kitten. His ears were flat and his tail hung low as he buried his face into the good side of Marco’s neck.   
Marco knew this was because the dog felt guilty. After all, his instruction almost got his kitten killed. Who wouldn’t feel guilty? The cat rubbed Jean’s back soothingly, and for the first time, Jean felt Marco begin to purr. The soft vibrations coming from the cat instantly melted his heart, his ears perking up as he looked to Marco.   
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, amber eyes locking onto Marco’s doe-brown ones. The kitten smiled, leaning forward to lick Jean’s ear as he continued to purr.   
“It’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this was kinda a crappy chapter but I'd love some feedback on it ;v; Thank you very much for reading!


	3. Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THAT I NEVER UPDATE THIS FIC IM GONNA TRY MY HARDEST TO FORCE MYSELF TO WRITE THE REST OF IT THO

The gloomy, rainy season had ended. The trees shed their colorful leaves and the temperature began to drop. In his old household, Marco never learned about the seasons. He just knew this time as "The Beautiful Cold" He made that up himself. 

The Beautiful Cold came this year as it did every year. It surprised Marco this time, though. He awoke early in the morning, but that was merely because Jean had come to his bedroom to "snuggle" as the dog called it. Snuggling was new to Marco and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to enjoy it or not. He certainly did, but he didn't know if this was one of those things only masters were supposed to get satisfaction out of. When Jean was adjusted and laid still, Marco dozed off once more. He slept for a few more hours before waking a second time. Jean was at the window, the shades fully drawn. There was a bright light coming from the large window when the cat opened his eyes and it took a moment before his eyesight adjusted and he could see what Jean was looking at. It was large clumps of wet snow falling from the sky. He got out of the bed, drowsy, but still very interested. He wandered to Jean's side, who smiled at him before looking back out the window. 

"I never realized how many angels there actually were." Marco said softly. From their vantage point, you could see the entire city be invaded by these softly falling white dots. Jean snorted. 

"Those aren't angels, Marco. It's just crystallized water or something." The dog informed him. Marco frowned and shook his head. 

"No, you're wrong. The Angels are here to make the city beautiful." It was too early for Marco to realize that he was talking back to his master, which you're NOT supposed to do. But Jean only laughed. 

"Whatever you say." The dog responded. He turned to Marco, hands going to the cat's waist. He gently turned the cat to face him. Marco didn't understand why all of Jean's touches were so gentle, but what he was about to do next would stump him completely. 

Jean leaned up, kissing the kitten's freckled cheek shortly. 

"C'mon, breakfast is ready." Jean said softly, starting towards the bedroom door.

Marco just stood there. What the hell was that? What the actual hell was that? You're only supposed to use your mouth for breathing and eating, so why did Jean just put his against Marco's cheek? This gesture befuddled the kitten who wasn't fully there yet since his mind was still sleepy and couldn't process what had just taken place. His previous owner never did that, so did Jean? Marco was deep in though when his master's voice called for him from the kitchen and snapped him back to reality. He rushed out. 

*

"Shit, really?" Jean groaned. "Fuck, alright, yeah we can reschedule. But it's gonna be a while, I'm kind of backed up this month. Okay. Yeah, okay. Yeah I'll email you. Okay, bye." The dog hung up the phone and let out a much more exaggerated groan. He flopped down onto the couch next to Marco. The cat hesitated before scooting a little closer and leaning his head against Jean's shoulder. The dog's hand traveled down Marco's back before finding a nice resting spot. 

"My client for today can't make it because of the snow." Jean explained. 

"So that means you've got me all to yourself today. Lucky you, huh?" The dog continued, jostling the kitten playfully. Marco stayed where he was, not knowing how to respond. He heard Jean sigh and the dog's hand left his back. 

"Marco, listen." He began. "You can talk to me, okay? I want you to talk to me. The reason I brought you off the street was because I'm lonely and cause you smelled nice." The dog explained, but it was obvious that Marco didn't understand. 

"Talk to me like we're friends and I'm not actually your master. I want you to be comfortable with me." Jean said sincerely. He stared at Marco, awaiting an answer. 

"O...Okay..?" Marco said quietly, questioning if that should've been his correct response. Jean's face lit up as he smiled. 

"Hey, there we go!" Jean responded excitedly. Marco couldn't help but smile sheepishly. He had just been praised for the first time. 

*

"Marco, you're sleeping with me from now on because I'm tired of getting out of bed to go to your room in the morning." Jean explained bluntly as he stopped the cat from entering his own room. Marco nodded and followed Jean to the master bedroom. It was elegantly decorated. A giant king sized bed with four posts sticking up from it with draperies all across it was placed in the center of the room. Next to the wall, which was actually just a giant window, were two love seats and between them a coffee table. A few dressers were against the walls and night stands were on either sides of the bed. Marco was more than happy to be sleeping in here. 

"That's your side." The dog instructed, climbing into the bed. Marco got in on his side, smiling like a child. He got the window side and snow was still falling. Jean snuggled up to him but Marco's attention stayed on the outside. Although he'd never admit it, this made Jean jealous. He shifted a little, trying to get the kitten's attention, but to no avail.

"Marco." He said a little too assertively for pleasure. The cat finally looked away from the weather to turn his head to Jean. 

"Turn around." The dog stated. Marco frowned, but did nonetheless. His back was to the window now. Jean still had his arm around Marco's waist, but the cat had no idea what to do.

"What... um... What do I do with my arms?" The kitten asked innocently. Jean crackled a smile. 

"Take that one and put it under the pillow." Jean instructed. Marco did so, adjusting a little before figuring that out. 

"Now put that arm around me." Jean said. Marco did so with dusty pink cheeks. Jean snuggled back up to the cat, burying his face in Marco's neck. However, even after all of this, Marco was determined to watch that snow fall. He craned his neck, gazing back out the window. Jean frowned. 

"You really like snow, huh?" He asked, coming off obviously irritated. Marco snapped his head back, ears flat against his head.

"Sorry." The kitten said softly. Jean sighed. 

"Why do you like it so much?" He questioned. Although he was annoyed, he was also curious. 

"Well, I always used to watch the Angels fall when I was younger." Marco began, recalling memories long forgotten. 

"Where I lived with my old owner wasn't the nicest place. It was always empty and lonely, and I wasn't allowed outside. I could look outside, though. But a dark alleyway littered with garbage and drug deals isn't the best sight." The cat paused. He sighed 

"And then one day I looked out the window and everything had changed. The drab concrete was painted a beautiful white by these... these things! These things falling from the sky like feathers!" Marco smiled at the memory.

"I never knew the names of the seasons since my owner didn't really educate me on it, so I called this time The Beautiful Cold." Jean snorted at the name, a frown replacing the smile on Marco's face. 

"I thought the things falling from the sky were Angels. That was the only thing I could think of. These angels decided one day to descend from heaven and make my gloomy world beautiful for a little while." 

Jean felt guilty now. Not only did he snort at the name Marco had given the winter, but he suddenly realized how sentimental this weather was to the kitten. 

"Switch sides with me." Jean instructed, sitting up in bed. Marco looked at him, confused, but did so. After they settled in Marco realized why Jean had had him move. He could watch the snow fall from here, but he could also have the dog in his arms. Jean nuzzled his face into the crook of Marco's neck, cheeks a little pink. Marco quickly got as close to the other as he could, eyes gazing out the window. He didn't even realize it, but Marco had begun to purr softly. The two dozed off, content, and smiling.


End file.
